


When the Darkness Comes Out

by Howlingdawn



Series: Whumptober 2019 [8]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: (very very brief tho and not part of the main whump), Angst, Bullying, Emotional Hurt, F/F, Self-Hatred, Sexual Harassment, Starfleet Academy, Whumptober, Whumptober 2019, set in my We Could Not Stay verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-02 22:00:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21168539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Howlingdawn/pseuds/Howlingdawn
Summary: It's not the first time T'Lal's been bullied for looking Vulcan and acting human.It is the first time the bully's right, though.





	When the Darkness Comes Out

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Whumptober Day 25 - Humiliation

“Hey, gorgeous. Can I copy your homework?”

Sitting in her usual seat in Earth History, waiting for class to start, T’Lal didn’t even need to look to know who had spoken. Exchanging an eye roll with Iris, she just said “No, Brad.”

He leaned seductively on her desk, the stench of his cologne nauseating. “Come on, beautiful,” he purred. “Just this once? For me?”

With a sigh, T’Lal looked at his over-gelled blond hair and painfully bright blue eyes. “I’m a lesbian, Brad.”

He started to trail one finger lightly along the back of her hand. “You sure about that?”

In one fluid motion, she grabbed his hand, stood up, and twisted his arm up behind his back. He whimpered pathetically. “Touch me again. I dare you.”

“T’Lal,” Iris warned, laying a hand on her arm. “He gets the point.”

T'Lal let go, shoving him into the waiting, ridiculously concerned arms of his usual harem of starry-eyed freshman girls. “You’re lucky my girlfriend’s here. Don’t try that again.”

She sat down, taking the hand Iris offered, letting it and her soft smile calm her.

“Romulan bitch.”

T’Lal’s head snapped up, shame and horror coursing through her, making her hidden ears burn. Iris stood up, moving between her and Brad, never letting go of her hand. “Get away from her. Now.”

“No.”

The word came out before she could stop it – not that she wanted to. Her shame twisting into rage, she stood abruptly, pushing past Iris. Now that she wasn’t threatening to break his arm, Brad faced her with a sneer, lifting his chin. “Say that to my face.”

He crossed his arms and reveled in every syllable. “Romulan bitch.”

“I’m _human_,” T’Lal snarled.

“Not with those eyebrows.”

Iris tried to get in front of her. “Sweetheart, he’s not worth it. Please sit down.”

“Come on, _T’Lal_,” he said, her name oozing from his mouth like honeyed venom, “you didn’t _really _think that curly hair was hiding anything, did you? You run around pretending to be human, but you never will be. You look Vulcan. You bleed Vulcan. Throw in emotions? That makes you _Romulan_. Not human.”

T’Lal grabbed a fistful of his shirt and yanked him forward, her other hand a fist at her side. “You don’t know _anything _about me,” she hissed. “You’re just a douchebag who’s mad that I’m smarter than you.”

He nodded to their classmates, still looking smugly superior. “Then answer me this, smart girl: Whose point are you proving right now?”

Around the room, the class watched them with bated breath. She recognized the nearest ones, the future security guards and captains. They looked poised to intervene, but even the boldest and strongest among them hadn’t dared. Behind them, the smaller kids and meeker future scientists huddled in whispering, wide-eyed groups. Even Iris, though she stood at T’Lal’s side as she always had since they were four, hadn’t dared touch her since she lashed out.

She looked at her fist, clenched against his chest, and remembered how freely she used it. The Vulcan kids she had punched out, the punching bags she had annihilated, the hands and arms she had twisted and sprained and broken for getting too aggressive with her or Iris or her sisters or anyone else. She looked at it and saw the anger she always felt, simmering just below the surface, forever ready to lash out at anything even vaguely threatening or irritating, the anger T’Pring had seeded in her and she had never been able to shake off.

She had Vulcan strength. Nearly everyone in Starfleet was human. One wrong move on her part, and she could break most of them like a twig. The need to be careful with that strength was something her dad had always instilled in her, something he had always helped her find useful outlets for, and here she was, throwing his teachings away because one jerk had insulted her. And it wasn’t even an insult she’d never heard before.

But this time, he was right.

_I’m a Romulan._

She released him like he’d burned her, pushing him away. _No. No no no no-_

“T’Lal?”

Iris was reaching out for her. Trying to take her hand again. Trying to soothe her with the same touch that had softened her angry heart for fifteen years, evolving from a stranger’s awkward attempt to a best friend’s comfort to a soulmate’s cornerstone. From something new and strange to something she never wanted to live without.

T’Lal jerked her hand away, stumbling away. “Don’t touch me! Don’t- don’t touch me.”

Iris held her hands up, distress shining clear in her eyes. “Ok,” she said, trying to sound soothing, but it only grated on T’Lal’s frayed nerves. “Ok, I won’t. Just- just sit down. Please. We can talk about this after class.”

_After class._

Everyone was still staring. Still whispering. Brad’s harem was fawning over him, massaging nonexistent bruises. Or were they nonexistent? She didn’t- _I don’t know. Did I hurt him? _He winced when one girl touched his wrist, and she didn’t know if he was playing it up or genuinely in pain.

Her ears burned. The pointed ears she hated. The pointed ears Iris loved. The pointed ears that signified everything different about her, good and bad and everything in between.

Right now, though, it was all bad. All ugly.

_I can’t stay._

She didn’t say anything, didn’t make a move, but Iris knew. She always knew. “T’Lal,” she whispered. Pleaded.

That quiet voice was supposed to be reserved for peaceful nights together, looking at the stars or studying or marveling at how lucky they were to have each other. It was supposed to be for nights curled up on a couch or a bed, safe and content in each other’s arms, Iris tracing her ears or kissing them softly, reminding her with every precious second that all of T’Lal was worthy and deserving of love, even the parts she hated.

Now it was scared. Scared of her, scared for her, T’Lal didn’t know. But she did know it was on display for their whole class to see, and it was talking specifically to the parts of herself she hated, trying to convince her to hide them away where they couldn’t hurt anybody.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, backing away from Iris, tears welling in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks.

“It’s ok,” Iris said hurriedly, trying to follow, and she was crying too. “Just don’t run. Please, don’t run, we can talk about this-”

Pushing past their staring classmates, T’Lal ran, ignoring Iris crying out after her.


End file.
